Faith (Soul Savers Book 7) (21 page)

“I can’t
believe this place is so untouched,” I mused as I brushed my
hand over an antique coffee table, flinging a plume of dust into the
air, before I set down the ingredients for our dinner. “This
would have been a good place to flee from the Daemoni, so they must
have left to take shelter from the fallout.”

“Actually,
there’s a ski resort not too far from here, and you know how
the Daemoni like to prey on vacationers.” Tristan picked up an
antique goblet and rubbed a coating of gray ash off with his thumb,
exposing a smudge of gold underneath.

“So not a good
place for refuge?”

He studied the cup for
a moment and put it down. “No, not good for Normans. Or if any
had come here, it’d be the first place the Daemoni would hunt
and harvest for their human farms.”

“I wonder where
they are.” I meandered around the room for a quick inspection,
trailing my fingers through the dust on the spines of books that sat
on a bookshelf spanning an entire wall. “Surely the Daemoni did
something with the Normans to protect their food source from the
nuclear fallout.”

“I’m sure
those camps were strategically placed near bunkers,” Tristan
said. “But I don’t think those were nuclear bombs. Not
all of them.”

I looked over my
shoulder at him. “We saw the mushroom clouds when Lucas was
boasting about what he’d done.”

“Any large impact
can create a mushroom cloud. The damage we’ve seen doesn’t
make sense.” He picked up a piece of cut wood from the stack
next to the fireplace and blew across it. A cloud of gray dust rose
and scattered. “Here, for example. There weren’t enough
nuclear bombs in the world to hit every town or even small city.
Targets would have been chosen strategically. There’s no reason
there would be fallout way out here in the mountains, in the middle
of nowhere.”

“Couldn’t
the wind have carried it?”

He shook his head as he
placed the wood in the hearth and reached for another piece. “Normal
nuclear fallout wouldn’t be like this. Not covering everything
so completely and evenly. The thoroughness is unnatural.”

I brushed a layer of
thick dust off the camelback sofa, sat down, and leaned my elbows on
my knees. “You think it’s supernatural?”

“I think Lucas
and his sorcerers, maybe even the Ancients themselves, did something,
yes. It looks like they tried to scrub out every bit of life-form on
Earth. Except, of course, for the ones they specifically chose to
save for their own purposes.”

I dropped my chin in my
hand and sighed. “Not
try
. They
did
.”

Tristan lit the pile of
wood with his hand, and the fire caught quickly. The flames cast
their orange light on half of his face while the other half remained
in darkness as he looked at me.

“I don’t
think so. I think humans are more resourceful and more resilient than
the Daemoni know. And so is this world. Life will come back from
this, if we can give it the chance it needs.”

I pursed my lips
together as I began opening jars for our supper, staying silent on
the matter. Nothing we’d seen so far had given me any hope. In
fact, the desolate landscape that had passed below us today had only
strengthened my belief that nothing good remained in this world. The
lack of mind signatures confirmed what I’d believed all along.

The blanket of
nickel-gray snow we woke up to the next morning did nothing to change
my mind.

We flew over all of
Austria and then to Prague, which looked even worse than it had when
we’d been there before. We continued on to Berlin and farther
north, until we came to the sea. I found pockets of Daemoni mind
signatures, but no Norman life.

Are you sure Noah
wouldn’t have gone to Hades?
I asked Tristan, not for the
first time.

“
Positive. He
had no interest in Hades, like most of the Summoned once they
realized Lucas had no intention of giving them any real power. Some
went rogue, like Edmund, and the rest scattered, doing their own
thing. They created their own little empires, taking over small towns
or leading gangs and mafias. But Noah just disappeared. We crossed
paths a few times before I left, and there are a couple of places we
can still check. I think we should go west and south before we head
east toward Hades.
” He banked to the left as he finished.

But as we made the
turn, something caught my mind just ahead in a large German town that
wasn’t quite a city.

No, not something.
Some
one
.

Tristan, there’s
a Norman down there!

We dropped to the
ground a mile outside of the town and hid our wings before running
the rest of the way. As we approached, she didn’t move at
first. The girl, in her early twenties, sat on the curb with her
jeans-clad legs stretched out into the street, her feet rocking side
to side on the heels of her Converse All-Stars. One gloved hand held
her blue, puffy winter coat together while the other lifted a
cigarette to her lips. Curly locks of black hair stuck out of her
knit hat. We were almost close enough to touch her when she finally
looked in our direction.

Her cheeks were sunken
in and her skin, which had probably once been a pretty coffee tone,
was a sickly pallor. Her light brown eyes, ringed in purple, opened
wide when she saw us, her pupils dilated unnaturally large for being
out in the sun. She jumped to her feet and ran.

“Wait!” I
called after her, but she sprinted down the street and around the
corner. “Let’s go. There’s probably more.”

For the first time
since before my trip to the Otherworld, I held a little bit of hope.
If this human could be out here in the air without succumbing to the
fallout, then others could, too. Maybe Tristan had been right last
night. Maybe there
was
a chance for this world.

We jogged after the
girl, and up ahead, I sensed the many mind signatures. A mixture of
them—Norman and Daemoni.

I think it’s a
camp
, I said to Tristan as we rounded the corner. The block was
short, ending at a large building that looked like a mall. The girl
disappeared inside. We stopped jogging, but continued heading down
the street.

“
I sense a
couple dozen Daemoni inside,
” he said. “
Any others
around?
”

I reached out with my
mind and then shook my head.
We can take these.

But I’d no sooner
spoken the words when several more minds popped into the area,
surrounding us. Except, not all were Daemoni. Not enough mind
signatures accounted for the physical bodies on the roofs above and
the sidewalks to our sides. The extras looked Norman, but they had no
thoughts for me to grasp. And on closer look, they all had the same,
inhuman eyes—no irises, no pupils, not even whites. Their eyes
black with flames dancing in them, like Tristan’s used to be
when the monster inside him had tried to take over his soul. These
were Demons, wearing human bodies.

The door to the mall
ahead of us swung open, and the Norman girl in the blue coat came
running out, tugging at the hand of a dark-haired vampire. She spoke
something in German.

“She says we
tried to kill her,” Tristan said quietly. The vampire leaned
down and pressed his mouth close to her ear. “He’s
promising to take care of her.”

The girl looked up at
him and smiled as his tongue traced the line of her jaw. Her coat had
fallen open, exposing bite marks all over her throat and chest. Other
Normans came out of the building, also sporting scars and also
hanging onto more vampires. Tristan and I exchanged a sideways
glance. Our one communication before I shot Amadis power at the
Demons, and he paralyzed the vamps in mid-motion as they’d made
their move to attack. The Demons poofed away, and I turned my palm
toward a female bloodsucker.

A Norman stopped me,
his voice pleading as he spoke to me in German. I looked at him with
disbelief, noticing the fresh wounds on his throat.

“Ich liebe sie,”
he said, and I didn’t know much German, but I knew that meant
he loved her.

“They’re
blood slaves,” Tristan murmured, before speaking to them in
German. The man answered him, shaking his head. “He says that’s
his wife. She was before she was turned, and she still is. This is
her nest. They’re all claiming to be family.”

“They’re
not Amadis,” I said.

Tristan shook his head.
“Not at all.”

“So they’re
using these Normans.”

“Retters!”
a woman said, and her thought translated to “saviors.” My
head snapped toward her with another spark of hope, thinking she
meant Tristan and me, but she jabbed at the vampires to each side of
her. “Safe.”

And my heart sank. This
was exactly what Lucas had wanted—the Normans to believe the
Daemoni would save them and take care of them.

Tristan said more in
German, and the man responded, eliciting a harsh breath out of him.
“They don’t believe we can help them. They said the nest
saved them right before the bombs and has kept them safe all this
time. They
want
to give them their blood. They claim it’s
no different than cooking dinner for their families.”

I opened my mouth to
ask him what we should do when gunfire ratted through the street,
coming from the doors to the mall. Several Normans dropped to the
ground, pulling their vampires down with them. More Daemoni and
Demons appeared around us.

After scanning the
minds of several people, I knew there was nothing we could do. These
Normans
wanted
to serve the Daemoni. They truly believed what
they were doing was right. And since none of them stopped the
shooters, they obviously didn’t want us there. Didn’t
want our help. They had masters and caretakers and were perfectly
fine with that.

Tristan gave me a nod,
and we rocketed into the air, exposing our wings to wrap around our
bodies, blocking the bullets still spraying toward us. Once we were
high enough, we spread our wings and soared toward the southwest,
flying for hours. No matter how far we flew, though, I couldn’t
get away from the images of the Normans and their perforated throats.
Those were the people I’d failed when Lucas had claimed his
victory. Those were the people who needed my help, but I had no idea
how to give it. Especially when they didn’t want it.

We spent the night in a
cathedral outside of Paris after sensing only Daemoni in the city. I
began to believe that the Normans Cassandra had shown me through the
veil either didn’t exist or now served the Daemoni. Or had been
massacred, as I’d predicted. My hope that had dared to spark
earlier was once again snuffed out, and my heart felt so heavy in my
chest, I was surprised I could even lift it off the ground to fly.

Where are we headed
now?
I asked Tristan the next morning as he steered us in a
southwesterly direction.

“
Noah once had
a hideout in Morocco,
” he said, the only explanation he
gave.

We flew for hours over
gray land, then over charcoal-gray sea that swallowed the sunlight
rather than reflected it, and then over more gray land that should
have been the color of sand. Even the deserts of Africa had been
scorched of any beauty. And there were no signs of life anywhere, not
even Daemoni. Not until I could see the ocean far ahead did I sense a
lone mind signature.

The singularity of it
made my heart sink.

He’s here
,
I told Tristan.
Noah. But not Dorian.

I led him as I followed
the mind signature to where the edge of land met the ocean. Cliffs
overlooked the beach, some jutting out into the water in unique
arched formations that had probably been breathtaking before, but the
monotone colors and strange shapes made me feel as though we were on
an alien planet. We landed on the gray sand and hid our wings.

Up there
. I
focused on a point about halfway up the cliff where there was an
opening in the stone. Tristan nodded, and we both sprang up there
together, landing at the entrance to a cave deep enough that I
couldn’t see the far walls.

“Noah,”
Tristan called.

No reply came, but I
felt him nearby.

“We’re not
here to hurt you,” I said, although I sensed no fear from him.
More like misery. We stepped farther inside so our eyes could adjust
better to the shadowy darkness.

“I know why
you’re here. I’m not ignorant.” Noah’s deep,
throaty voice came from our right, at about the two o’clock
position, and we both turned in that direction. A large figure moved
in the shadows. “But you’re too late. Dorian’s long
gone.”

My throat went dry,
although logically, I’d already known Dorian wasn’t here.
The finality of Noah’s voice felt as though he carved the words
into my heart.

“Where then?”
I asked, sure I didn’t really want to know, although deep down,
I already did.

“He should be to
Hades by now.”

My eyes fell closed,
and my jaw snapped shut as the lump in my throat muted me.

“When?”
Tristan demanded, his voice steel-hard.

“We parted ways
in Prague a while ago. That’s as far as I would go. I don’t
know exactly how long it’s been—a few weeks, maybe a
month or two. I came here to get away from the others.”

“And you just let
him go?” I asked, my voice found again and coming out as a near
shout. “You let a little boy travel to Hades by himself?”

Noah scoffed. “He’s
not exactly a little boy. And I’m sure he wasn’t alone.
This was all his doing, but many have been waiting for him. He
probably had a royal escort.”

“I was trying to
save you!” I yelled at him. “I helped you! And this is
what you do in return?”

Noah stepped out of the
shadows completely, revealing himself, wearing only leather pants and
combat boots, his broad chest bare and his long, wavy brown hair
reaching his shoulders. His lip curled up in a sneer as he looked
down his nose at me with hazel eyes, the scar in one eyebrow looking
extra severe. “How many times do I have to tell you?
You
can’t save me. But Dorian could have had a chance.”